The following article is a commentary piece on censorship.
When I was a freshman, back in the days of yore when the most popular extracurricular activity was Kick the Can and everything was filmed in black and white, the campus seemed to have no problems at all. Granted, students were occasionally snatched up by passing pterodactyls, and there were some close calls right after Dr. Kucera discovered fire, but for the most part, things were serene and idyllic.
That was a simpler time. There were fewer buildings, and the population of the University was noticeably less. Unfortunately, the march of human progress – known for such epoch-defining inventions as sliced bread and global thermonuclear war – has brought a post-modern plague down upon our happy community.
When I was a freshman, the staff of The Minaret numbered about five. Our major preoccupation was playing game after game of tiddlywinks and competing to see who could come up with the best assumed name. The title usually went to “Ask Greg,” who regularly masqueraded as both a columnist and his readers. Sometimes, a full page of the print edition would be filled by a profound Zen koan, written in 72 point red lettering: “Write for The Minaret!”
It is no accident that, looking back on my freshman year, I can’t remember a single scandal breaking at the University of Tampa. Our impeccable standards of safety and integrity were without a single noticeable blemish. Since The Minaret started reporting about crime, unethical behavior and incompetence on campus it seems like something bad happens every day.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m as progressive as the next man. I laud the University’s astounding progress in creating four colleges where there were only two before, seemingly with no effort at all. But, the rampant growth of the student newspaper clearly must be halted immediately, as every time The Minaret improves its methods of information gathering, we learn the sordid details of some new disaster.
Take for example the recent revelation about the arrest of former Einstein Bros. employee and current criminal mastermind Eureka Patterson. During my freshman year few of us were even aware that we had a Safety and Security division. Now we are locked in a vast game of “Where in Vaughn Hall is Carmen San Diego?” Crime has apparently tripled, and clearly The Minaret is the only possible cause.
Or, last week’s report about cockroaches and black mold in Austin Hall. Prior to The Minaret, we had no reason to believe that Facilities was not an elite force of superheroic proportions. We lived in a virtual Shangri-La, where we were free to indulge in the assumption that campus staff failing to address such unsanitary conditions in a timely manner was impossible, as University representatives would surely have been quick to assure us, had we ever thought to ask.
Wherever The Minaret goes, tragedy follows. The exorbitant growth of vandalism, theft and criminal mischief at UT directly correlates with the beginning of on-campus investigative journalism. When journalism is snuffed out forever, these problems will simply disappear once again, and we will return to our previous state of bliss.
I am not the only one who feels this way. Recently, the president of Flagler College in St. Augustine, William Abare, took bold steps to eliminate hardship on his campus – by silencing on-campus reporters. During a recent interview with the St. Augustine Record Abare made his position abundantly clear: “The first and most important function [of the Flagler College campus paper] is to promote the image and reputation of the institution. Period. If it doesn’t do that, then why should we have it?”
To this I say, bravo, President Abare! Though I do not know your other policies well, I must say that your handling of the journalism debacle at your institution, and your wise words, suggest you are a stern but fair ruler. Truly, you have taken to heart the forward-looking philosophy of such leaders as Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor, who once summarized his style of governance thus: “Everything for the people, nothing by the people.”
It should be said that revisionist historians scornfully characterize His Imperial Highness as an “enlightened despot.” But, I’m sure such words will not be uttered of President Abare, as his insightful journalistic policies ensure that there will be no one in Flagler College to utter them.
Though we often treat the subject lightly, there is no doubt that as the population of our campus grows, The Minaret will persist relentlessly in finding more and more problems – almost as if UT’s rapid growth provides some kind of impetus for more trouble in and of itself. Thus, the weak of heart even here may be moved to call on the spirit of Abare’s iron-fisted leadership.
But, that call will be to no avail. The day will never come when the many-headed hydra of student journalism is felled by Ronald Vaughn and Bob Ruday riding white chargers. Over the last year it seems that all, from the great to the small, have joined together to acknowledge its presence. Instead of seeing our investigative virtue as a beast that threatens to consume us, as William Abare does, we declare it a potent force for change, to be respected, handled with care and turned toward positive ends.
By providing information about the shortcomings and vulnerabilities of our campus, The Minaret and newspapers like it democratize the sphere of discourse for their universities like no other force within or without. They create the impression that the average student has a voice and can, by joining together with others, cause real and enduring change in their learning environment. They provoke disagreement, discontent and the belief that things can always become better than they are.
In that light, the choice is clear: universal harmony or continuous discord?
William Abare has made his choice, but he cannot make the choice for others.